


Celebration

by masserect



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Dragon Age Kink Meme, F/M, Het, Loss of Virginity, Size Difference, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 20:01:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1562273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masserect/pseuds/masserect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the final battle, the Warden invites Sten to join her on one last adventure. Somewhat to his surprise, Sten agrees. Original prompt: <i>Surana loses her virginity to Sten. Bonus points if he really has to restrain himself so he doesn't hurt her.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Celebration

"Revelry?" She tasted the word as though it were unfamiliar. "The qunari. _Revelry_. Really?"

"Do you find it strange?"

She made an odd noise, like half-choked laughter. "Strange? I don't think I've ever seen you smile. It's hard to imagine you... revelling."

"I _am_ smiling," he said, and this time she did laugh.

That laughter soon died away, however, and her expression turned serious.

"You are leaving soon," she said, "aren't you?"

He nodded.

"And the next time we meet..."

"We may be enemies," he finished. A lie would bring neither of them comfort.

She sighed and looked away - a bit nervously, he thought. It seemed curious. She must have known that it would turn out this way, that once re-united with his blade, he would be able - and compelled - to return home.

She did not give him much time to ponder. When she turned back, the awkward feeling was gone, and her expression confident.

"We still have some time together. We should make the most of it."

"That is all we _can_ do."

He did not consider it a particularly amusing line, but it brought a chuckle from Neria. "Would you like to move this celebration somewhere a little more private?" She leaned a little closer, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

"Why?"

"You know. Go somewhere we can be a little more _personal_."

"Personal."

She rolled her eyes. " _Naked_ ," she said, and sighed. "No, I'll come out and say it. I want to do something because I want to do it, not because it's the right thing. I want to keep a nice memory of you when you're gone, something that doesn't involve a thousand Darkspawn and us slaughtering them." She frowned, and pouted somewhat uncharacteristically.

It surprised him a little that his first reaction was not to refuse, but to consider the logistics.

"If I raise my arm -" He did so, stretching out straight from the shoulder. "-you could walk under it without bowing your head."

"You don't scare me," she said, swallowing. True to her words, she did not seem _afraid_ , but the sense of nervosity was back. "I have been _stabbed_ with bigger things." Her gaze flitted down for a moment, then back up; her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. " _Probably_ bigger things," she added, a little quieter.

For a moment, he remembered her as she had looked before, her skin pale and wet, spattered with dark dragon blood as she pulled a massive talon from her stomach. Gritting her teeth, breath gurgling in her throat, a trail of her own bright blood trickling down her chin, mingled with sweat and water. Lightning flashed overhead, and even across the carcass of the great wyrm, he could see it reflected in her eyes. _Defiant_.

She was strong, of that there could be no doubt. To call her fragile, incapable, was an insult. More importantly, it was an untruth.

And she was...

...not unattractive, was as far as his thoughts would go.

She wanted him, and he...

...did not hate the idea.

And as much as he probably should, he could not _bring_ himself to hate it.

"You are a bad influence," he said, softly. Neria's eyes glittered as she smiled, clearly taking it as a compliment.

Then she reached out and took his hand.

"Follow me into adventure one last time, Sten?"

And Sten followed.

-

It was simple enough to find an unoccupied bedroom in the palace. There were plenty - clean, polished, and ready to receive high-born guests at a moment's notice.

Neria closed the door behind them. "Nobles," she said, and sighed. "Too _frilly_."

Sten said nothing. Simply watched as the elf pushed a chair in under the handle, effectively locking the door.

Finished with her task, she turned to smile at him. "Clothes," she said, and pulled at the lacing at her neck.

He watched her disrobe as he began the ritual of removing his armour. Pauldrons, gauntlets, greaves, couters, poleyns, every part was almost as familiar as the body they protected. Touch alone sufficed to put it on, and touch alone sufficed to take it off. Touch and an ordered mind.

This time, his mind was _not_ ordered. Neria bent low to unlace one of her boots, and the upper half of her robe hung loose, exposing more flesh than he was used to seeing, but still, not enough to be... indecent.

What would she look like, once it was all gone? Fair and slender, certainly; he could tell as much the moment he laid eyes on her. But what else? Scars? Some, most certainly, but a mage had options not open to others.

Metal clattered on stone. The noise made him pull his gaze from the elf, and instead he looked down at the gauntlet he had dropped.

How pathetic, he thought as he stooped to pick it up. One could think he had never seen a naked woman before.

If Neria noticed, she did not show it. She just pulled her foot free and went on to the other boot. Once that, too, came off, she stepped onto the carpet, shuffled around a little, and knelt to prod it with a finger. Then she ran her hand over it and shook her head.

"I have underclothes pricklier than this," she announced to the world at large, before straightening up and reaching behind her back for another lacing.

Then she jumped as Sten took her hands and guided them back down before setting about untying and loosening the strings. Unlike this armour, he needed to watch what he was doing, but it was still only a matter of moments before it yielded.

Neria gave a soft noise when her robe crumpled, hanging around her knees, sleeves still clinging to her wrists.

That, too, was only a moment's work.

Wearing only her smallclothes, Neria stepped aside, leaving the robe in a heap on the floor. Mildly disapproving, Sten bent to retrieve it, folded it and laid it on a table.

Ignoring him entirely, the elf strode over to the bed, turned her back against it, and allowed herself to fall over backwards.

The bed went _poof_ and Neria sunk deep into the thick, fluffy blanket. She laughed, delighted by its softness, and pulled her legs up; then lay on her back, staring up at the canopy above.

"Trees," she said, vaguely fascinated. "They don't sleep outdoors, so they put a cloth over their beds and put trees on it." She sat up, leaning back on her elbows, and gave him a look. "Humans are pretty strange."

"Yes," he agreed, and put the last pieces of armour in order. The rest of his clothes were easy enough to get rid of; he folded them and sat down on the bed.

Neria stared, grinning. For a while, she seemed content to do only that, but then, she reached out and put a small, soft hand on his shoulder.

Sten waited in patience while she explored. She ran her fingers up and down his arm, the further up across his shoulder, and then, somewhat hesitantly, down to his chest. Fingers splayed, she drew circles on his skin, and then pushed, as if expecting something to yield under her touch.

Then she giggled, uncharacteristically. "I think Shale is softer than you," she said, fingers ineffectively prodding an unyielding muscle.

"Shale is made of stone," he said, and she looked up, somewhat exasperated.

"I know!" She sighed and lowered her hand; shook her head, as if deciding that it wasn't worth arguing. "Help me out of this?" She indicated her brassiere, hands rising to cup her breasts for a moment. He nodded; that, he could do.

She giggled again when he relieved her of the garment. "Some men have trouble with these things," she said.

"Some men have trouble tying their shoelaces in the morning," he said, and laid the little scrap of cloth on the bedside table.

Neria made an unladylike but amused noise. "You have a point," she said, and her smile faltered a bit. "Um. Show me how the qunari do this."

That plan had several flaws. For one thing, she was _not_ qunari. Certainly, qunari women were smaller than the men, but none of them small enough to... walk under his outstretched arm without bowing her head.

Careful, then. He placed his hands on her hips. He could reach almost all the way around her even there.

Neria purred and reached up to tug the ribbon out of her hair. Freed from constraints, it spilled across her shoulders, fine and silvery.

Not unattractive at all, Sten thought, and slid his hands up. The curves of her body were less pronounced than a qunari woman's - less than a human or dwarf's - but clearly defined and... alluring. He might have thought that her figure was girlish, at first, but Neria was undeniably a woman. A warrior woman, with scars much like his own, if not quite as many. A big one on her stomach, to the left and a bit underneath her navel, from the dragon's claw. Even healing magic could not fully eradicate a wound of such magnitude. It did not dull her beauty; rather, he found it accentuated it.

She smiled, eyes half lidded, when he reached her chest. He stopped there, thumbs resting just under her breasts, not actually touching.

"Go on," she whispered, softly.

He continued - raised his hands a little further, so that his thumbs were gently pressing up against the soft mounds, lifting them slightly. Then bent his head, seeking one small, pink nipple with his lips.

Neria arched her back, pressing her chest against him in a clear invitation.

When he began to kiss her breasts, she draped her arms loosely around his neck, fingers toying with his braids, humming contentedly.

"That's nice..."

But however nice it was, she eventually pulled back. "My turn," she said. "Stand up."

He stood. Once more, he caught a nervous look in Neria's eye, but her gaze moved steadily south. She licked her lips, reached out hesitantly. Her hand trembled as she hooked a finger under his waistband. She drew a deep breath and tugged, pulling his loincloth down to mid-thigh.

As soon as she saw what it had been hiding, her eyes widened and she yanked her hand back, almost as if she had burned her fingers.

"You... you have to be kidding me," she croaked. Her hand twitched. Part of her seemed to want to reach out, while another part wanted to hide under the covers.

It was a somewhat amusing sight.

"You did not listen."

"No," she said, absently. "I didn't."

"You can still call this off."

She frowned. "That won't make _anyone_ happy," she said, took a deep breath, and reached out - quickly, as if she were afraid that she would lose her nerve if she allowed herself any more time to think.

The touch was feather-light. She brushed the root of his cock, then let her fingers trail down towards the tip.

As light as the touch was, it was effective. He had been half erect when she began, but his body soon reacted, and Neria whimpered when his cock began to rise, pressing up against her fingers.

"You're _kidding_ me," she repeated, sounding somewhat faint, but her fingers did not stop.

He did not answer, because there was nothing he could say.

Neria continued, trailing the tips of her fingers up and down his length. It _tickled_ , more frustration than relief, and when she showed no sign of doing anything else, he reached down and took her hand, wrapped her fingers tightly around the base of his shaft, and stopped, his grasp keeping her still.

"I am not fragile," he said, and Neria's shoulders shook with silent laughter.

"I know," she said, and licked her lips. "Get on the bed, Sten. On your back."

He looked down. Neria looked back, and tossed her head to the side. "Bed," she repeated, and pulled ineffectively at his prick.

Sten did as he was told, nevertheless - allowed her to let go and climbed onto the bed, where he lay down, looking up at the canopy above. There were trees. Patterns of leaves and branches. Humans _were_ strange.

Then he felt Neria's hands on him again, and looked away from the trees. They were nowhere near as interesting as the little pale hand curling around his cock, fingers barely able to reach all the way around.

Neria tucked her hair back behind her pointed ears and leaned in to flick her tongue at his tip. Then, she had both hands around his shaft and began to stroke, long and measured movements. Her touches seemed experimental, enthusiastic but inexpert, more like something she had perhaps heard of but never experienced before. Her touch was still too light for his liking, but he could not deny that he enjoyed the sight of her tongue lapping away - hot and wet, tiny and brightly pink against his bronze-hued skin.

As he watched, she became bolder and began to use her lips as well, pressing little sucking kisses on his saliva-slickened skin. She could not fit him inside her mouth, but she did not need to.

He could do more than just watch, however.

Neria squeaked indignantly as he sat up and pulled down her underpants, then wrapped his hands around her waist, lifted her up, and lay back down again - this time with the elf lying across his chest and stomach, legs spread wide, straddling him somewhat awkwardly. He stroked her thighs and buttocks, her back and shoulders, and she soon seemed to relax.

"Continue," he said, and she nodded before wrapping her hands around him again and bowing her head.

Moments later, he could feel her tongue again, working tirelessly, circling and stroking.

She was learning quickly. She was still too cautious - still afraid to take a proper hold of him - and her touches that did little to calm the urges burning inside him. He should push her to be more resolute, more decisive, but he had to remember that he could break bones if he treated her the way he was used to.

Instead, he tried to focus on his own task. Filled his palms with Neria's firmly rounded buttocks, kneaded her supple flesh - the elf hummed against his cock and pushed back, raising her hips.

He slid a finger down between her thighs. Neria's sex was soft, smooth, and entirely hairless; her outer lips parted easily when his finger slid between them. Warm, and already slick with desire. He brought his hand up to taste her; curious, unfamiliar, but... feminine.

He returned his finger to the spot between her thighs. Neria shuddered, her grasp tightening for a moment; shuddered again and gasped when he slid lower, brushing his finger against the sensitive little bud of her clitoris.

Then she began to move, hips rising and falling as she slid herself against his finger. Her hands had stopped, but squeezed him harder now; it was good enough.

He brought down a second finger and pushed it against her entrance. Pleasing her was rewarding in its own way, but he needed to prepare her for more than just that.

Neria's body resisted.

He pushed, and she made a strained noise her entire body going stiff and tense. He waited, and she breathed deeply, dropping her head, leaning against his hip. Then, she raised herself and looked back over her shoulder. "Push," she ordered.

He did, and this time, she pushed back. Something gave way, and his finger sank inside her to the second knuckle. 

Neria whimpered, hands trembling, nails digging into his thighs, and he began to pull back.

His finger came away streaked with red.

With a qunari, he might have expected them both to come away with new scars after the act. But once more, she was _not_ qunari, and so it was unexpected. _Significant_.

"You did not tell me-"

"No." She interrupted him, resolute and determined. "No. I didn't."

"I was led to believe that this was considered important among your people."

She rolled off him, sat up and glared down at him. Moisture had gathered at the corners of her eyes, but the look she gave him was fierce, almost hostile.

"This is _my_ body you're talking about. It's none of _people's_ business what I do with it."

"No, _kadan_."

The answer seemed to mollify her somewhat. She sighed.

"Can we just start over?"

"As you wish, _kadan_."

Neria gave him a small but grateful smile. 

Then she squeaked again as he picked her up once more.

This time, he put her on her back and rolled over, pinning her against the bed. He kissed her breasts, but did not stay there for long; instead he moved down, and the elf gave a nervous little giggle when he stopped - his lips pressed against the little mound just above her sex.

"Go on," she whispered, and put a hand on his head, gently pushing in further down.

He needed no more persuasion.

She tasted sweet and sensual, and the faint hint of blood was nothing new. Neria hummed when his tongue found her clitoris, and the touch sent a shiver through her, a ripple that seemed to roll lazily through her body, down through her legs, up through her stomach and out into her arms; her hand shook briefly where it lay, and he could feel her heels digging harder into the soft mattress.

There were advantages to a size difference as well. His tongue was strong, long enough to circle her entrance and brush her clit at the same time. Still, his tongue was not enough, and Neria whimpered as he pushed a finger against her once more and raised his head to suck at her clit.

"More," she breathed, stroking his head shakily, her other hand clutching at the sheets.

He pushed.

His finger sank inside her to the third knuckle, and Neria moaned, hips rising to welcome him.

Sten parried the movement easily, without taking his tongue off her, and started to slide his finger back out. She squeezed down, as if she were trying to keep him inside her, but there was nothing she could do to stop him.

When just the tip of his finger remained inside her, he stopped. Neria whimpered, breathing quick and shallow, and he thrust back inside her tight, wet heat. Neria gave a high-pitched noise and arched up, lifting herself off the bed, then falling back down, limp.

He curled his finger a little and increased his pace. Neria purred and raised her legs, clamping her thighs over his ears; her fingers clawed at his scalp, trying to establish a hold on his hair. His braids resisted the attempt, until she found the spot at the back of his head where they converged; she latched on, arms shaking with the effort of holding on.

Sten pushed another finger in alongside the first.

Neria cried out, sharp, short and shrill, but she did not resist.

If anything, her grip on his hair tightened.

He raised his other hand to her chest, toyed with her breasts, pinched and tugged her nipples; she whimpered and shuddered, and he started pumping his fingers faster into her, faster and harder, angling each thrust up towards her navel. His tongue flicked, circled and stroked; he sealed his lips against her slick flesh and hollowed his cheeks as he sucked at her. The sheet was dark and moist where she lay; each thrust of his fingers sent new drops of clear liquid rolling down his hand, down the cleft between her buttocks before soaking into the snow-white linen. Neria beat her heels against his back and shoulders, her hips bucking, meeting his thrusts; her entire body as tense as a bowstring.

Growling, tongue grinding hard against her clit, he curled his fingers and thrust once more, hard.

Neria lost her grip on his hair, her shoulders slamming back against the bed, and shrieked. Tossing, twisting, writhing, but unable to break free from his grasp, she rode his fingers desperately, ground herself against his chin; her fingers clawed first at his arm, then at the sheets; then she pressed her arms over her face, bit her wrist and whimpered powerlessly as the last waves of the orgasm tore through her.

Not until she lay still, quiet except for the sound of her panting, did Sten stop. He raised his head, feeling drops of slick moisture rolling down his cheeks and chin, and looked up at the elf.

Neria looked serene. Strands of her silvery hair had stuck to her cheeks and forehead, dark with sweat; her skin glistened with it. Her eyes were closed, but as she felt him moving, she opened them and met his gaze.

Deep, dark and clear, the look in her eyes allowed no arguments when she gave him what was unmistakably an order.

"Kiss me."

He did, and felt her lips part, her tongue sliding against his. One small hand came up to rest on the back of his head, to keep him still while she tasted him - while she tasted herself on his lips.

By the time she finally let go, her breathing had slowed to its normal rate, and some strength seemed to have crept back into her body. She smiled softly, petting his cheek.

"You... are a good kisser," she said. Then, her expression hardened, and her smile became something more akin to a smirk. "I want more than kisses." As she spoke, he felt her raise one knee, pressing it up between his legs. "More," she repeated. " _More_."

"I know," he said, because he had expected nothing else.

"Roll over."

He did. Slowly, Neria raised herself off the bed, shook her head, brushed back her hair, and stretched, catlike.

Then she turned and eased one leg over his hips and sat there just below his cock, the tip of it resting against her lower stomach.

She took a deep breath. Then, raised herself a little and shuffled up. She sank down again, pressing his erection up between them, and began to slide herself up and down his length.

It was better than her hands, even her tongue.

Neria enjoyed it as well, leaning down, hands on his chest, hips sliding effortlessly back and forth. She was wet still, dripping, and her flesh glided easily over his, covering him in slick fluid.

That was exactly her plan.

Soon, she stopped, leaving his cock throbbing between them.

"Help me up," she ordered, and he eased his hands in underneath her, lifting her. As soon as her weight was off him, his cock sprang back up, standing straight, the tip of it hovering just below the opening of Neria's sex.

"Down," she whispered, hands clutching tightly at his wrists. " _Slowly_."

He eased her down, until he could feel the silken heat of her against his tip. A little further still. Her nether lips parted easily, seemed to pull at him, eager to feel him inside.

Neria winced, grit her teeth as he let her sink a little further. Just the tip, now, not spreading her quite as wide as his fingers had done before.

Lower once more, and she shivered, almost pulling herself off him before she settled down. She breathed deeply, and lowered one hand, wrapped it around his cock just below the head.

"This far," she said, squeezing firmly. "When I say." Another deep breath, and then another.

Then she nodded. " _Now._ "

Slippery and slick, the head of his cock disappeared inside her, and Neria slumped, as if it had knocked the air from her lungs. She squeezed him like a hot, wet, velvet vice; trembling slightly, but determined to press on.

Another deep breath, and she nodded again. "Down."

Her body resisted. But it was powerless against him, and slowly, slowly, she sank further down his shaft, until she had taken just over half his length inside her.

Panting and wide-eyed, she told him to stop, and he did, resisting the urge to pull her down hard, to keep going until he was sheathed inside her to the hilt.

Neria moved, shifting her weight, hips describing a small, slow circle, and they both groaned.

Neither of them would last long like this.

All he had to do was make sure she came first.

But judging by Neria's suddenly devilish expression, she had something else in mind.

"Let go," she ordered, and he did, leaving her to support herself on her knees.

She began to move. Slowly rocking back and forth, biting her lower lip at the sensation of fullness and the friction between them.

Sten fisted his hands in the blanket, fighting another, more powerful urge to yank her down and impale her fully on his cock.

Instead, he brought his thumb up and began to rub circles around her clit.

Neria's eyes fluttered shut and she leaned her head back, hair spilling over her shoulders; her simple movements sped up, and soon they were no longer simple; her hips moved in eight-figures, circles, in curiously rocking half-circles back and forth. Her hands rose to her breasts, thumbs and forefingers pulling at the little pink buds of her nipples.

She moved faster.

It was not long before Sten felt the familiar electric tension building in his groin.

Neria grinned, licked her lips, and reached down behind her, fingers wrapping around the root of his cock and squeezing.

There wasn't much he could do.

Neria rode him in silence, hips swivelling, her body seeming to suck at him, urge him deeper inside; she ground herself against his finger, but as close as she seemed, he was closer still.

Neria had him defeated, and they both knew it.

He let his hand fall. The urge was too strong to grab hold of her hip and thrust deep, to fill her up entirely. He grasped her thighs instead, just above her knees, fingers digging in; probably bruising her fair skin, but he could not muster more control than this.

Not now, not like this.

Growling like a wild beast, he reluctantly allowed himself to be swept away. Thunder boomed in his ears, reverberating through his body, but he could still hear Neria laughing delightedly as she felt him twitch and spurt inside her - could still see her eyes shining as she continued to ride him to the best of her ability, barely allowing his grip on her to slow her down.

"Again," she whispered, squeezing his slightly softened cock inside her. " _Again_."

He could do that. But not like this.

Neria squealed as he rolled over, pinning her underneath him once more, and without giving her time to comment, began to thrust into her, short, fast, powerful strokes that shook the entire bed and made Neria's eyes widen and her breath come in unsteady gasps; his fingers found her clit again and rubbed it roughly.

She had been close before. This time, she did not stand a chance.

Writhing and whimpering, Neria wrapped her legs around him, turned her head and sank her teeth in his arm, panting and moaning, soft, muffled sounds.

It did not last as long this time, nor did it seem quite as powerful, as earth-shattering, but it left Neria limp and glowing with satisfaction.

Sten did not slow down. After all this, it was only fair that he would get to finish what he'd started, and after the display he had just witnessed, he would not have to wait long.

Neria opened her eyes, peered up at him, and licked her lips.

"Outside," she hissed, still panting. "I want to _see_."

He growled, speeding up. The bed creaked and groaned; Neria panted against his chest, clawed at his shoulders, whimpered occasionally when he thrust a little harder, a little deeper than he should have.

He was close to the edge already. Those noises only brought him closer.

Another few thrusts was all it took, and he pulled out, arching his back, hand wrapping around his cock and pumping it, and he was vaguely aware that Neria made a shrill noise of surprise when he came.

Then, panting, still stroking his softening cock, he looked down.

Neria's eyes were still wide, her mouth open in a tiny **o** of surprise. Thick, white come lay thick on her stomach and ran in rivulets down the slopes of her breasts, pooling between them; several drops had spattered across her cheek, and as he watched, she reached up to wipe them off, then licked her finger clean. Her other hand played lazily with the mess on her chests, pulled at her nipples with slippery fingers; then slid lower. Her fingers left trails of bare skin, before the thick, milky fluid closed again; lower and lower, until those fingers disappeared in between her thighs.

As he watched in astonishment, Neria swiftly brought herself to one last orgasm, barely having the strength to shudder when it washed over her, and then, finally, she stopped, panting, chest heaving, her body slick with his seed.

It was almost enough to make him hard again.

-

They used one of the sheets to quickly wipe themselves off. Then, Neria lay still and smiling, dazedly staring up at the trees-and-leaves-patterned canopy.

Sten joined her, rolling onto his back and pressing his shoulder against hers.

"Wasn't that," she mumbled, trailed off, and made another attempt. "Don't you think that was the best victory celebration _ever_?"

Sten found himself unable to disagree.


End file.
